Laughter Breaking Rocks

“When your laughter breaks through the rocks, somewhere, somehow, a bud begins to bloom…..”

– Jayita Bhattacharjee

I’ll take some belly laughter , please.

A pitcher full, a basket full.

Fill me up to the brim.

Until I cannot help but spill out mirth.

Through every pore.

I’m tired. Because I am a mother. (Hear me roar)

And as I lay down my Home educator hat, and pick up my Fun Summer Mom hat, I feel a little tipsy.

Off kilter, off center, possibly off my rocker.

My oldest will be a Senior in the Fall.

And then I will have a graduate very two years.

Until the end.

The end of this thing I’ve been doing my entire adult life. The end of our homeschool.

The end of their childhood, the beginning of their adulthood.

And what even is a mother without her child?

What does it mean to finish raising them? Where is the finish line precisely?

Because it’s hazy, distant, uncertain.

I fall a lot. I try to advise when I shouldn’t. And I forget to teach them things I should .

And the growing pains are hard. Judging between what they already know and what they still need ,

Trying to not nag, not to burden.

Wanting so desperately to pour 35 years of hard worn lessons into their teenage brains.

But time and life will do what I cannot.

They , twin educators, will teach my children what I will not.

So, someone please make me laugh.

Because like Elizabeth, I dearly love to.

And …. Because if I don’t laugh through the pain of the growing up and leaving … I’ll most surely cry.

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